


if you are in need (of a castle)

by cgf992



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Established Relationship, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Sam Winchester Takes Care of Dean Winchester, Wincest - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-31
Updated: 2020-03-31
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:54:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23417812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cgf992/pseuds/cgf992
Summary: It is not exactly a sex club. It’s not even a sexy club from where Dean’s standing. But it has this dingy, grungy look to it that makes you think anything is possible.Or, Sam and Dean need to sharpen a knife in a castle.
Relationships: Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester
Comments: 1
Kudos: 8





	if you are in need (of a castle)

What do you do if you need a castle? Take it literally and book the next flight to Europe? Or muddle through?

This coming from the guys that –

Once, Sam and Dean tricked a troll into dying. After seeing the property damage to multiple barns and houses across a very unremarkable stretch of Kansas landscape with their own eyes, they had had a working theory pretty fast. Trouble was, instead of a dangerously violent and incredibly aggressive _river_ or hey, say a _forest troll_ , Sam and Dean came face to face with a _Troglodytarum alpinum._

A mountain troll. In Kansas. Without a mountain in sight.

Weighing over a tonne ( _Hey, do you think that’s a metric ton or a long ton? – Does it really matter, Dean? It’s fucking heavy._ ), unpredictably vicious and 12 feet high ( _What, now they use feet? I kinda wanted to know what that would be in centimeters. – I think that’s a British website. – So, a short ton? Fuck, that’s heavy._ ), the troll’s immense strength was only matched by its immense stupidity.

After exhausting all possible weapons out of the Impala’s trunk, and standing in the shadow of one of the biggest and toughest creatures they’d ever met, Sam started talking. And talking. Thinking aloud and philosophizing. About mountain trolls and their relations to river trolls and how that must mean that one species’ strength was the other species’ weakness. _Sure_ , said Dean, catching on, _exactly how it is with humans. So, that must mean you are afraid of water, right? Pity, that there’s a river right behind you. Do you feel it sapping the strength outa ya?_ Almost 45 minutes later, the troll was letting itself drown in the river, believing it was inevitable.

Sam and Dean didn’t just trick that ugly fucker to death. They kinda talked him into it.

– okay, muddle through it is.

Dean googles castles. Right under the picturesque Disney crap he finds castle, fortress, fort - a large fortified building or group of buildings with thick walls, usually dominating the surrounding country. Further down he finds stronghold - a place where a particular cause or belief is strongly defended or upheld.

“Holding a strong belief, defending it, having a cause,” Dean murmurs, typing. “Defending it from outsiders. People not in the know?” Less typing, more backspacing. “No, people that are not allowed in… Ha! Got it, Sammy, look!” Dean turns the laptop to his brother and wriggles his eyebrows. Sam groans.

<<

It is not exactly a sex club. It’s not even a _sexy_ club from where Dean’s standing. But it has this dingy, grungy look to it that makes you think anything is possible. From a drug bust, to a sudden appearance from the health department to the best fucking party of your entire fucking life. That last part is probably due to the heavy bass line penetrating Dean’s very core. He has to keep moving with the rhythm, otherwise he risks falling over.

Unfortunately, everything looks like cheap plastic. Not a stone in sight. Even the wall next to the bar seems to have some kind of vinyl coating.

 _Probably better to clean and disinfect_ , Dean muses. “Let’s check out the walls in the back.” Dean blindly backhands Sam’s chest, eyes now on a barely clothed couple sitting on a single chair. “Shoulda gone with sex magic.”

Sam gives him and the couple a confused look. “—There was no option for sex magic.”

“There should _always_ be an option for sex magic.” Dean doesn’t know if he was going for petulant or sassy.

Sam doesn’t seem to mind either way, quirks a smile and puts a firm hand in the back of Dean’s neck. Squeezing once, he pushes Dean to the back of the club.


End file.
